Firemark
by Lightningwolf325
Summary: Lucy's at Hogwarts for the Tournament. Harry needs a friend, so what's a friendly 11 yr old to do? But could he be a descendant of the Great Gawain? What happens when Harry gets the Mark of Oomara from the Horntail? And how does Lucy do with magic?
1. The Mark of Oomara

**Disclaimer**: I do not, in any way, shape, or form, own Harry Potter or The Last Dragon Chronicles (aka, The Fire Within Series). They belong to JK Rowling and Chris D'Lacey respectively.

**Stuff**: Well, I've only come across one other crossover of its kind—Of Wizards and Dragons by Crazy ASN (btw, if you're reading this, your profile pic is creepy). It was really good—you all should read it. If you don't know anything about The Last Dragon Chronicles, that one has an overview of the main stuff at the beginning. For those of you who don't know, Lucy has a kind of thing for squirrels (keep your mind far away from the gutter on that one). I've decided to make a story containing these two amazing series'. It's kinda been on my mind since I randomly realized that Lily and the Pennykettles are so similar (no, literally, _randomly. _I was just listening to music, not even reading either of the series). Not HP/LP. Oh yeah, for those of you who have read The Last Dragon Chronicles, since this is obviously before Fire Eternal and the events at the end of Fire Star, should David be in this? I could introduce him during the Christmas holidays (yeah, I know about the Ball and stuff), but should I?

**Review**: Please? I'll be good!

**Firemark**

**The Mark of Oomara**

Lucy Pennykettle sat apprehensively in the stands, red and gold scarf wrapped firmly around her neck, watching in mingled awe and anger as the creatures of her dreams were released in chains. They were beautiful, and it seemed like such a crime to keep them locked up—not that she didn't understand why. They were different than her draconian ancestor—more barbaric, and as far as she knew, completely unable to communicate with humans. They would attack the crowd within seconds of being let loose, but that didn't mean that Lucy had to appreciate the reason they were there in the first place.

It was Lucy's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was also the first time in over two hundred years that the Triwizard Tournament was taking place. The tournament had been outlawed in 1792, having been deemed too dangerous for students to compete. Now, for a reason Lucy only wished she knew, it was being revived.

The tournament was a competition between the three most prominent magical schools in Europe—Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and, of course, Hogwarts. A champion was chosen from each school to compete in three very dangerous tasks. The prize— the title of "Triwizard Champion" and a thousand galleons to the champion and bragging rights to the school. Lucy didn't really understand why anyone would want to risk their neck just for money and fame, and so was supporting the only champion she saw as sane—Harry Potter.

She had been drawn to the older boy ever since she had first laid eyes on him. He was a fourth year, famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Voldemort (another thing Lucy didn't understand was why everyone was afraid to say his name—it wasn't like a _name_ could hurt you) and well-liked—or so she had thought. The moment his name had come out of the Goblet, three-fourths (or rather two; the Slytherins hated him on principle) had turned against him. The Gryffindors hadn't, as a whole at least, but neither did they believe him when he vehemently announced to the entire common room that he hadn't entered. They were simply ecstatic that one of their own was in the tournament.

But is wasn't his fame or charisma that led Lucy to believe that he was telling the truth—no, it was his eyes. The eyes that were too old for a fourteen-year-olds face, eyes that held shadows and secrets—eyes that were the exact same shade as her and her mother's. Harry wasn't a normal fourteen-year-old, by any means—but neither was she a normal eleven-year-old. A cannon went off.

She had heard rumors of Harry's escapades during his first, second, and third years, and wasn't quite sure which to believe. Of course, she _had_ befriended him—he was in desperate need of someone who believed him and didn't care if it was a first year—but she didn't want to upset him by asking. She mentally flinched as Cedric caught fire—even if he had entered the tournament of his own free will, he was nice.

Harry really _had_ been desperate for a friend, even one who was three years younger than him. Ron Weasley had turned against him due to jealousy—apparently he was going to apologize after the task was over, and if she was there she wouldn't be responsible for her actions—and while Hermione believed him, she spent more time with Ronald than she did with Harry, trying to convince the redhead to apologize. Though her heart was in the right place, she really didn't see that Harry needed her more than Ronald did at the moment. So Lucy had drawn the black-haired boy into a conversation at the lakeside one afternoon when he was alone, asking about Hogwarts and explaining that she had grown up in the muggle world. She found to her surprise that he had as well, going to live with his aunt and uncle after his parents were killed by "He-Who-Must-Be-Hyphenated", as Harry had called him. It seemed that she wasn't alone in her disbelief of the wizarding world's faintheartedness. Oh, flaming skirt, that had to hurt.

She had consciously had to restrain herself from asking about his mother's appearance. Did she have red hair? Lucy _really _ wanted to know. She knew the chances were slim, but if she was a daughter of Guinevere…well, Harry would be even more special than everyone thought.

Though they had not known each other for very long, Lucy and Harry had gotten rather close. She secretly regarded him as something of an older brother. Especially after he had rescued her from those Slytherins a couple of weeks previously. Malfoy looked rather nice with red hair that had little gold lions running all over it. Even better was that he hadn't been able to get rid of it all day and none of the teachers believed it was Harry. Not even Snape, as it was such a difficult bit of magic to perform. Ah, how many points was Krum going to lose for smashing half of the eggs? They really should have some protections around those—what did the dragons ever do to them?

Great Gawain, now it was Harry's turn. Lucy unconsciously leaned forward, biting her lip in anxiety. That dragon looked pretty nasty. Why wasn't Harry doing anything? He was just dodging and hiding! Oh, good, now he had his broom—Lucy had never seen him fly before. He was incredible, but really—trying to beat a dragon in the _air?_ She had done it a little in her flying class, but nothing too spectacular. Ouch! Dragon's tail to the shoulder, that couldn't be good. And—he had the egg!

Lucy was screaming in her seat, though vaguely annoyed with everyone else—so _now_ they were cheering for Harry, after they had shunned and ignored him. She rushed down to meet him, making it to the arena before Ron and Hermione. She saw McGonagall compliment him and beamed; he really had done well. She hugged him and followed him into the medical tent.

"You're insane, you know? Trying to out fly a _dragon?_" she let loose as Madam Pomfrey healed his arm. He grinned.

"It worked, didn't it?" Pomfrey rolled her eyes.

"Only you, Potter, only you," she muttered. "Now," she continued briskly, "I want you to _stay put_. You can go get your score in a moment." With that, she left.

"What's up?" Harry asked after a moment of watching Lucy shoot glances toward the entrance. "Looking for squirrels?" Lucy stuck her tongue out at him.

"No. Ronald was planning on apologizing after the task. I'm just waiting to see if he's gonna stick with it," she said haughtily, trying not to grin at his mention of squirrels. Harry sighed.

"Luce, I know that you don't like what he's been doing, but he's been my best mate since we were eleven—" he started.

"I know," she moaned. "But he's been such a—"

"Git," Harry supplied. She nodded and he sighed again. "I know. Look, how about this—I'll give him another chance, and if he does something seriously bad again, it'll be over." Lucy brightened a bit.

"Okay," she agreed. Harry suddenly remembered something. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out the figurine of the dragon that he had gotten from the draw.

"This is how they decided which dragon we'd be fighting," he told Lucy as she exclaimed over it. "We drew them out of a bag, and they had little numbers around their necks to signify the order. Mine's the Hungarian Horntail. I thought you might like it, seeing how much you like dragons." Lucy's face looked like it might split from how wide she was smiling.

"Thanks!" she flung herself on him in another hug, which he laughingly returned after stiffening for a split second. He wasn't overly comfortable with physical contact, but he could make exceptions.

"Er—" a voice interrupted them. Ron and Hermione were standing in the doorway.

"Harry! You did brilliantly!" yelped Hermione, still a bit pale from watching the task. But Harry stared straight past her, looking into Ron's eyes.

"_Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet—I—reckon they're trying to do you in!" _

Lucy stiffened. She couldn't believe that, after avoiding Harry ever since his name had come out of the goblet, Ron was suddenly back to being his "best mate".

"_Caught on, have you?" Harry said coldly. "Took you long enough." _

"Look, mate—" Ron began.

"No, really, I—" Harry started at the same time. Lucy poked his ribs and glared at Ron.

"No Harry," she said coolly, "I would like to hear his apology." Ron gulped at being faced with the vindictive eleven-year-old and turned back to Harry.

"I'm sorry!" he burst out. "I was a jealous git who couldn't get over himself! I shouldn't have said all of those things. I wasn't much of a friend." He hung his head. Lucy stared for a moment before nodding her approval. Harry rolled his eyes at her and walked over to lay a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It's all over, mate. Just don't do it again," he threatened, grinning as he caught Ron's eye. Hermione stomped her foot.

"Merlin, you two are so _stupid!"_ she yelled. The boys exchanged glances.

"But you love us anyway!" they chorused. Lucy giggled as Hermione closed her eyes exasperatedly.

"Now c'mon, let's get your score!" Ron yelled, leading the way out of the medical tent, jabbering about the other's tactics the whole way to the arena.

The dragon handlers were still having trouble with the Horntail when they arrived. Harry was both pleased and a bit surprised to find that he was now tied for first place with Viktor Krum of Durmstrang. McGonagall rushed over to them.

"Potter, the champions need to stay after for some instruction on the second task," she said briskly. "Bagman will be waiting for you in the champion's tent. And again, congratulations on your accomplishment." She gave him a rare smile that turned alarmed at Lucy's scream.

"Harry, look out!" Harry turned just in time to see the dragon limbs flailing around before a claw caught him across the chest. He flew back a good ten feet before hitting the arena wall and crumpling to the ground, unconscious. McGonagall rushed over to him as the handlers got the Horntail back under control.

"Weasley, go fetch Madam Pomfrey! Now!" she snapped authoritatively and Ron sprang into action. Lucy stared in horror as blood gushed from the wounds, wounds that were shaped in a design that Lucy had only ever heard about in the legends that her mother told her.

Right over Harry's heart was the Mark of Oomara.

**Guess What! I'm a line!**

**A/N**: So, let's assume that Lucy had at least _some_ knowledge of the Mark of Oomara before the whole thing with David's publisher, and that the only reason she didn't recognize it then is because she thought it was an ink smudge. Personally, I think that it would be more noticeable if your friend was just attacked by a dragon and had blood pouring from the newly-formed Mark. For those of you who don't know—some history. Short version. The sybil Gwilanna made a hunter kill a young polar bear. When he struck the cub over the head, this mark appeared. In the time period of the series, Gwilanna marked Zanna (who is David's girlfriend during a large part of the series) with it on the arm (Zanna is also a sybil, though not as powerful due to her lack of proper training). It is generally a sign of great magic (i.e. when Zanna uses it on the reporter Tam Farrell, he loses all memories to do with Zanna and the Pennykettles). Sorry if this is vague and partially incorrect, but it is getting rather late, I am tired, and I haven't read the books in a while. Anyone who has a better explanation, please leave it in a review and I will post it on a later chapter. Anonymous reviews ARE enabled. Thanks.


	2. Movements

**Disclaimer**: Guess what? I'm not Chris D'Lacey _or_ JK Rowling! That means that I don't own either of the series' that I'm writing about. So wouldn't we all be happier if you _didn't_ sue me?

**Stuff**: So yeah, thanks for reading, and to **alkkhes** for adding to favs, and to **Crazy ASN** for the first review (thanks for the kind words and the pic made me laugh too, after I had gotten over the shock of it popping up on my desktop when I clicked on your profile…lol). Here's chapter duo. And sorry if the accents are off. Oh, and future chapters will be more from Harry's POV, it's just that it's kind of hard to do that when he's unconscious, and we've already heard his POV on facing the dragon in GoF. And I've decided to put in David, though I may have to twist around the timeline a bit.

**Movements**

Lucy was barely aware of Hermione crying somewhere to her right. The arena around her was simply a blur. All she could see was the blood pouring from the three wounds on Harry's chest.

The Mark of Oomara. '_Great Gawain.'_

Cedric came running out of the champion's tent, closely followed by Fleur, Krum, and Bagman.

"What happened?" he asked, horror filling his voice as he caught sight of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall leaning over Harry's bloody form.

"The dragon…" Hermione croaked. Ron stiffly walked over and put an arm around her shoulder, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry. Bagman's eyes were wide on his boyish face, and any other time he would have looked rather comical.

"I—I—the _dragon_ did this? B-but the task is over!" he stuttered before hustling over to the healer. An exhausted looking handler with red hair walked over.

'_Charlie Weasley,'_ she recalled numbly. Harry had told her before the task.

"Dear Merlin!" he exclaimed, pale and shaking. "We—we couldn't get the dragon sedated! I need to write to mum!" He ran in the direction of the owlery, shooting a worried look over his shoulder at his younger brother's best friend as he went.

"'E was attacked?" asked Fleur in disbelief. "I thought zey 'ad everything under control!" Krum shuffled his feet awkwardly, though a scowl deeper than his usual one was set firmly on his face. Cedric walked over and placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder.

"He'll be fine," he said, though unable to keep the worry from his voice. "He's recovered from horrible stuff before, and he'll do it again." He seemed to be reassuring himself as much as Lucy at that point, but she appreciated the effort. She noticed that she was shaking.

Cedric's attention was pulled away from her as Dumbledore swept towards them, followed by Karkaroff , Madam Maxime, Crouch, Moody and the other three Heads of Houses. Moody stumped over to Harry, closely followed by Crouch, while Karkaroff and Maxime hastened to their champions. Dumbledore led the way to Cedric, Lucy, Ron, and Hermione.

"Charlie Weasley said that Harry Potter was attacked by the Hungarian Horntail," he said sharply. "What happened?" Ron, pale beneath his numerous freckles, spoke up.

"We—we were talking to Professor McGonagall and the dragon went berserk. It managed to slash Harry with its claws before they got in enough stunners to knock it out," he explained hoarsely. Out of the corner of her eye Lucy saw McGonagall nod to Pomfrey and stand up, heading towards their group.

"Poppy said that there will be some scarring, but he should be fine," she said. The entire group let out a breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. The transfiguration teacher turned to the potions master. "She also said that she would be needing some potions—?"

Snape gave a nod. "I'll prepare them. Honestly, only Potter," he muttered to himself. He turned back in the direction of the castle.

"Wait," Professor Sprout stopped him. "Perhaps some Calming Draughts as well?" She shot a concerned glance at the Gryffindors, Lucy in particular. Snape reluctantly pulled out his wand and conjured several bottles, passing them out to the Hogwarts students and looking questioningly at the visitors. Fleur shook her head and Krum simply turned away. He shrugged and swept toward the castle, robes billowing behind him as he went.

Flitwick turned to Ron. "Maybe you could go and inform your brother that Mr. Potter will be alright?" he squeaked. Ron jerked his head and set off with Hermione.

Cedric looked down at Lucy. "Are you—" he began.

"I'm fine," she sniffed. "I-I need to write to my mom." With that, she left.

**. . .**

"_Dear Mom,_

_Hogwarts has been really cool! I've been learning a lot. How are things going at home? How are the dragons? And David?"_

David was the tenant that was staying at their house so that he could go to uni. He knew all about the dragons now, and even had a special one of his own.

"_Tell them I said hi!_

_Speaking of dragons, guess what the first task was? The champions had to get past nesting mothers in order to get the golden egg. It was horrible! The dragons were chained up and everything. But they would have attacked everyone if they hadn't been. They didn't even speak dragontoungue._

_Harry did the best! You remember, I told you about him. He summoned his broom and _actually_ out flew the dragon! And apparently, it was the most vicious one here. It was called the Hungarian Horntail, and Harry gave me the animated figurine he got of it. It's really cool._

_Harry actually got away with just a scratch on his arm from the dragon's tail. It wasn't all that deep, and Madam Pomfrey healed it in no time. And then Ron apologized._

_But Harry got hurt again! After the task, they were having trouble calming the dragon down and it hit Harry with its claws. He flew back and hit the arena wall, and there was blood everywhere. Madam Pomfrey said that he'll be fine, though. And Professor Snape gave us all Calming Draughts, so I'm fine. And it wasn't poisoned!_

_The thing is, the scratches over Harry's heart look just like you told me the Mark of Oomara looked like. I figured that you should know. Mom, I'm scared. I really don't think that Harry's normal! Can he come over for Christmas? He doesn't have any plans! Please? Write soon. Love you!_

_Hrr!_

_Lucy"_

"C'mere, Hedwig," Lucy coaxed gently. "I don't think Harry would mind. He's let me use you before. Besides, you haven't had a delivery in a while, have you?" Hedwig hooted, studying Lucy with her amber eyes before finally sticking out her leg. Lucy smiled.

"Thanks girl. It's a nice, long delivery, okay? You'll get some good exercise. Take it to Elizabeth Pennykettle at 42 Wayward Crescent, Scrubbley, Massachusetts. You know the place."

Lucy watched as Hedwig winged out of sight and sighed. She knew that Madam Pomfrey was among the best and that if she said that Harry would be okay, he probably would be, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

She idly twirled her fair-yet-quickly-turning-red hair on a finger as her feet almost unconsciously carried her to the hospital wing, a mantra of '_he'll be fine, he'll be fine'_ repeating over and over again in her head. Images of Harry, covered in his own blood, invaded her mind. A voice broke her out of her depressing thoughts.

"Oy! Lucy!" Ron Weasley called, chasing after her with Hermione hot on his heels. "Headed to the hospital wing?" He asked, bending over slightly to catch his breath. She nodded. "We are too," he gestured to himself and Hermione. "And we know a quicker way. Harry's been there so often that we know practically _all_ the shortcuts to get us there. C'mon," he turned and walked through the wall right next to him. Hermione motioned for her to go next.

Soon they were infirmary-bound. A flash caught Lucy's eye as they walked in silence.

"What's up?" asked Ron curiously as she flung her head around.

"Nothing," she murmured. "I just thought I saw something."

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked gently after a couple of moments. Lucy snorted.

"I'm doing great," she replied sarcastically. "But I think I should be asking you that."

Hermione laughed, albeit tightly. "I'm coping. Madam Pomfrey said he would be fine, anyway."

"Would it help at all if I told you that you get used to it?" Ron offered to Lucy. Hermione smacked his arm. "Hey!"

"Git," she muttered. Lucy felt a weight drop into her pocket as she laughed. Reaching down, she pulled out a clay dragon.

"What's that?" asked Hermione, catching sight of the dragon. Lucy blushed.

"My mom makes them," she answered. "This is Gwendolen, she's mine."

"Wow," Ron breathed. "She _makes_ these? Without magic?"

Lucy chuckled at his awe. "Yeah," '_sort of,'_ she added silently. "We sell them at the local craft fair."

"Amazing," he said. "Oh, here we are," he added, pulling back a tapestry and leading them into the corridor just outside the hospital wing.

Stepping into the infirmary, Lucy's eyes were immediately drawn to Harry's bed. He was, thankfully, sitting up and looking thoroughly annoyed with Madam Pomfrey's ministrations.

"I'm _fine_," he insisted as she tried to shove a potion down his throat. "It doesn't even hurt!"

"You're fine when I say you're fine," the matron replied sternly. Harry groaned and collapsed into the pillows.

"Oh, hey Lucy, Ron, Hermione," he greeted, perking up visibly when he saw his friends. "Gwendolen," he added playfully when he caught sight of the clay dragon.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, obviously trying not to fling her arms around him. "How are you?"

"I'm f—" he shot a glance at Madam Pomfrey. "I would say that I'm fine, if I were allowed to," he said solemnly. "But I can't, because apparently I'm not."

"Oh?" inquired Hermione, quirking an eyebrow. The nurse rolled her eyes.

"I would say that he was fine if I could without him trying to use that as an excuse to leave," she said, poking the boy in the chest to prevent him from sitting up. Harry sighed as Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office.

"Please entertain me," he pleaded. Ron laughed.

"Have you heard what the other champions did?" he asked.

Harry listened eagerly as Ron, Hermione, and Lucy told him what happened. The four talked for a while until Hermione found out that Ron hadn't yet done an essay that was due the next day and dragged him off to the library, leaving Harry and Lucy alone. The pair talked a bit more.

"It's dinner time. You'd better get down to the Great Hall," Madam Pomfrey addressed Lucy as she bustled out of her office.

"Can I please stay?" Lucy gave her a puppy-dog stare. The matron looked on sternly before sighing.

"Fine, but you're to make sure that Potter here eats a full meal. I need a break," she compromised, returning to the office as food appeared before the students. Lucy grinned triumphantly.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked, shaking his head in wonder. "I can _never_ get her to do that!"

"Trade secret," Lucy smirked, shooting a warning glance at Gwendolen as she shifted slightly at the smell of food. Harry looked disturbed for a moment.

"What is it?" she questioned nervously. She and her mother had made sure that wizards and witches were generally unable to see the special dragon's movements before Lucy was able to come to Hogwarts. So Harry couldn't have seen it, unless—

"Nothing," he said, shoving a forkful of shepherd's pie into his mouth.

They ate in silence for a while, Lucy sporadically making sure that Harry wasn't just pushing food around on his plate like he was so apt to doing these days. Finally Gwendolen couldn't take it anymore and began fidgeting. Lucy, now engrossed in her meal didn't notice. Harry stared at the dragon.

"Lucy," he began, disbelief coloring his voice, "why is your dragon moving?"


End file.
